


Wicked.

by careforacuppatea



Series: Fem!Paul McCartney/Paula McCartney [McLennon] [2]
Category: The Beatles (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Genderbend, Genderbending, Oral Sex, Semi-Canonical Character, Smut, Smut request, Underage Sex, fem!Paul McCartney, semi-canon au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-29
Updated: 2020-10-29
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:59:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27259066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/careforacuppatea/pseuds/careforacuppatea
Summary: In which John's wicked mouth get's Paula all heated and worked up.
Relationships: John Lennon/Paul McCartney, McLennon - Relationship
Series: Fem!Paul McCartney/Paula McCartney [McLennon] [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1990336
Comments: 1
Kudos: 21





	Wicked.

**Author's Note:**

> What if Paul had been born a girl?
> 
> Well, obviously John would've licked her little cunt up like a shot of good whiskey.

John had a wicked mouth.

It could leave one squirming and blushing where they stood; embarrassed, humiliated, hurt.

But at the moment, where Paula sat, John's wicked mouth was making her cry out and flush with arousal.

She felt hot, so hot, her whole body felt sticky with perspiration as she rode against the rough, wet muscle working eagerly against her.

It was late afternoon, old Jim dear and her younger brother Mike weren't home and wouldn't be for some time. The day had started off relatively innocent; John and Paula had ditched their classes again (was becoming a thing now for Paulie, to ditch her schooling so easily now that she'd met John) and had headed to Paula's to hangout, listen to records, gets some tea and biscuits before maybe fiddling around on their guitars. Wasn't often they could go to John's, being Mimi was usually home and she was strict on having no girls, not just in John's room, which Paula could at least understand-- but in the house in _general_ , 'friend' didn't make a difference. Only time they'd be able to go there alone was when Mimi went out to bridge, and that wasn't as often as John or Paula would like.

So, Paula's home it was.

Though, Paulie wasn't exactly John's friend, and what they ended up getting into once plucking on their guitars and trying to pull lyrics from thin air got tiring and John was bored, and Paula's fingers felt a bit raw-- proved that.

This wasn't the first time John ate her out, but it always felt exhilarating and like the first to her. No boy had ever touched her like _this_ , and while she’s kissed and necked a bit with other lads, anything further always seemed awkward, and left her feeling dissatisfied and uncomfortable.

Cor, their first time wasn't all that perfect but, maybe that's what made it special to her anyway. John wasn't like those other boys, as unoriginal as it made her feel to think it. Maybe it was because John was older than her, that he seemed so much more confident in touching her. Not afraid to do things that she couldn't imagine herself asking-- like sitting on his face.

It'd all started so familiar before he'd asked... Staring across the pieces of paper from Paula's school workbook, unfinished lyrics, songs they no longer had an interest in trying to paint and materialize into reality. Not when their eyes meet and there's that _spark_.

That strange _pull_ between them, that attraction which seemed too much at their age-- and add in teenage hormones, only lead to temptation. And being in a house, all alone, how could they not fall into it?

Kissing, always kissing. Sometimes it starts sweet, chaste-- other times, John's impatient and he's intense and he practically rips the air right from Paula's lungs with those kinds of kisses. Both leave her wanting more.

Then there's the touching, oh the touching-- the first time, John had been rather shy, nervous. But now, he's eager, hands pushing under her blouse, warm and leave her sighing. In sliding his hands, up the sides of her thighs, under her skirt as she straddles him, sends goosebumps along the way. He moves and handles her like he owns her.

And she can't find it in her to mind.

Then he'd asked her, once they'd gotten rid of her pesky skirt and she'd finally managed to undo all the bloody buttons on his shirt to have it slipped off. Both their hair already looking mussed up, her long dark hair already let loose.

She was expecting him to roll them over until he was on top, caging her in-- but no. He's murmuring against her ear, breathless, that he wants her to sit on his face, _**c'mon, let me, I won't bite**_.

And now she's here, because she couldn't say no and would be a liar if him asking her so bluntly didn't send a thrill down her spine, causing her pussy to pulse heavy with unabashed lust. A thick, hot tongue rolling between the fattened lips of her cunt, almost as if it was moving in waves against her and she couldn't get enough. She'd gotten less shy about moving down against his mouth, subtly grinding, using the wall in front of her to place her hands for balance. He only seemed to encourage her anyways, with the muffled groans of approval that'd travel straight up into her. His large hands, either holding at the small of her back, or groping at her bare ass that only added more heat to her face.

It was all just, so filthy. There John was, between her creamy thighs, hair fox colored splayed against her pillow, eyes closed in what one might consider worship. Nose pressed against the coarse, dark curls, can feel the sharp intakes and exhales.

That _mouth_ , that _tongue_ \-- it left her feeling weak. Her thighs trembled; her cunt pulsed with toe curling pleasure as he buried that wet, thick, _long_ muscle inside of her. Jesus, it felt like he was so deep. Hazel eyes, misted over from wanton pleasure, biting that full bottom lip of hers as she glanced down, and seeing John down there, the wet, obscene sounds of his tongue and lips moving and working against her, inside of her.

Every time his tongue would brush over her clit, she'd tense up, nails making a sound as they scrapped against the wall, letting out a strangled moan.  
" _John, J-John... **Johnny~**_ "

Her cunt pulsed, throbbed, one hand knotted in John's hair as she rolled her hips against him, seeking a release that always seemed so out of reach, but _teasingly right there_ as John gave a suck to one of the lips of her cunt, ran the pointed tip of his tongue back and forth, sending little electrifying shocks of pleasure as he'd run over her swollen clit.

"Johnny, please," Paula whined, heat thrumming through her veins, breathing loud and noticeable in the quiet of her room, of the house. John merely groaned, hands sliding up to the mid of her back, only to slowly slide back down, dragging blunt nails against her soft skin and sending pleasure to skitter across her skin. Her cunt throbbed, John's tongue never let up, and _finally when he caught on that the little area at the very top, that little hard nub,_ focusing on it and circling it with his tongue mercilessly--

She tensed up, the muscles in her thighs jumped along with that of her stomach, the grasp of John's hair tightened and pulled a grunt from the older below as Paula found herself jerking about. A stuttered sob, the name of the boy below slipping past those full lips as her face pinched in ecstasy.

John simply continued to lazily lick at her, suckle, drink her up like a shot of rum and coke. She rode out her orgasm like that, quietly moaning, sighing. John's grip on her easing as her grip on him let up, into basically petting, and the spasming turned to afterglow pulses from her cunt, her clit.

Oh yes, John had a wicked, _wicked_ mouth.

**Author's Note:**

> Did you know John loved to eat girls out? 
> 
> My tumblr is johns-prince.


End file.
